Inheritance
by Fleur Princesse
Summary: The sixteenth year is full of surprises. Draco is a veela and Harry is his...mate? Hermione is betrothed to who? Veela!Draco, Dark!but not evil!Harry. DMHP, HGOC. Warning: will contain some SLASH! Full summary inside.
1. Inheritance Part One

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. If I was JK Rowling, and I did own Harry Potter, I would not be writing fanfiction. I am merely using her charactersin my own plot. I also realize that some things in my story may seem familiar. I have read many fics on this site, and am using the ideas of many others in my own way. Please consider it an honor that I wish to do this.

Full Summary: Your sixteenth birthday is special, especially for wizarding children. It is the birthday you get your Inheritance. However, three young lives are about to be changed forever due to this event. Draco is a veela and Harry is his...mate? And Hermione is betrothed to who? And Ron and Ginny suddenly fancy Slytherins? Featuring veela!Draco, Dark!but not evil!Harry. Pairings include DMHP, HGOC, and some other SlytherinGryffindor romances. Warning:this fic will contain some SLASH. Don't like, don't read.

Chapter One: Inheritance – Part One

Harry Potter couldn't decide if this was the best summer he had ever spent with the Dursley's, or the worst. Things so far had been quiet, really quiet. Harry figured the Dursley's had been so scared by Mad-Eye Moody's threat, they were afraid to do anything to him.

So they were ignoring him. And it wasn't just ignoring him as in giving him meals but not speaking, no; the Dursley family was pretending that Harry Potter did not exist. There was no communication with the dark haired 'freak' at all. There was no food. Nothing. And believe it or not, Harry didn't mind so much.

Sure, he had to be very careful of what he ate, seeing as aunt Petunia didn't leave any food for him, and he couldn't take something from the refrigerator or they would know it was missing, but he did get to keep his schoolbooks in his room. Hedwig wasn't locked in her cage, and Harry could walk around outside all he wanted. He didn't have to do any chores, and Dudley's gang hadn't picked on him once so far. For the first time since Harry had come to live at Privet Drive, life was good. The Dursley's acted like he had died along with 'that dirty murderer.'

Of course, that brought Harry's thoughts around to Sirius, and why this was also the worst summer of his life. Harry couldn't stop thinking about the Veil in the Death Chamber. He had seen Sirius fall through it, but he had also heard voices, whispers, coming from within it. Every night Harry was plagued with nightmares, visions of his godfather falling through the veil, the Prophecy, Cedric being murdered, Hermione petrified, Ron immobile on the floor after their chess match in first year, his mum's screams, and Voldemort's wand pointing down at him.

Harry was ashamed to say it, but in that moment at the Ministry of Magic, when Voldemort's wand was pointing at him, Harry had actually wanted to die. He had wanted it all to end. There had been no fear in his mind, only thoughts of seeing Sirius again, and his parents. He had wanted to die… and part of him still did.

So much death had been caused by Harry. At least, that's what he believed. His mum and dad, dead because of him. Cedric, Sirius, Bertha Jorkins, the muggle Frank Bryce, all dead because of him. Barty Crouch and even Professor Quirrel, dead because of him.

Harry wondered how many more it would be before the end. How many more people would perish because of him? Why did he have to be so bloody important? Why couldn't the Prophecy have been about Neville? The Prophecy. That was something else that filled Harry's thoughts. _Neither can live while the other survives_. Harry either had to kill Voldemort or die trying. There was no other way.

And then his thoughts would be focused on the fact that the fate of the wizarding world was resting on his shoulders. Shoulders that were small, shoulders that belonged to a boy who had fears that every year he was going to die. The shoulders of a boy who was now a man, forced out of a childhood he never had to bear a burden he shouldn't have to carry.

The cycle went on and on, nightmares, loneliness, too much time to think about Sirius and the Prophecy. Harry didn't even have any letters from his friends to distract him, which was why he was currently sitting on his bed, in the dark, on July 30th, waiting for his sixteenth birthday, with no cards or presents.

Ten minutes.

Harry did wonder why no one had written him. He usually had a letter from Ron, Hermione, and even Hagrid by now. Maybe Dumbledore had prevented them from writing. What with Voldemort in power again, it could be dangerous sending mail. Harry didn't mind not getting anything, he was plenty used to it by now, but he just wished someone would have warned him.

Seven minutes.

Harry wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing right now. Ron was probably sleeping, or trying to get information out of his parents about the Order. Hermione for sure knew it was almost Harry's birthday. He wondered if she was sitting up, watching the clock just like he was. Maybe she was thinking about what his inheritance would be.

Four minutes.

Harry knew all about the supposed 'inheritance' a witch or wizard gets on their sixteenth birthday. Their power was said to increase a few levels, and they would attain an affinity for a certain subject. Harry knew that part was true at least. Ron, much to his disappointment, had developed an affinity towards Divination on his sixteenth birthday.

Two minutes.

Hermione had told Harry that other things could happen when you gained your inheritance also. She had said that your appearance could change, or that your animagus transformation could be pushed. Harry sincerely hoped neither of those things happened to him, but knowing his luck, it was likely something did. He wouldn't mind being an animagus, but Hermione said it was a very painful process.

One minute.

Harry wondered what subject he would have an affinity for. Probably Defense against the Dark Arts. It was by far his best class.

Thirty seconds.

Or maybe he would become good at potions, and then Snape wouldn't pick on him anymore. No, Snape would probably just accuse him of cheating, and life would go on as normal.

Fifteen seconds.

Harry took a deep breath to prepare himself. He wasn't quite sure what was going to happen, or what it was going to feel like, but it never hurt to be prepared.

"Make a wish, Harry," he said, repeating the words he had spoken to himself many years ago, on that dark, stormy night.

Five seconds.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Midnight.

At first Harry felt nothing, and then he felt everything. His whole body was on fire. It took all of his willpower not to fall on the ground screaming. Harry wasn't sure the Dursley's would continue to ignore him if he woke them up in the middle of the night. But this, this was pain beyond anything, it was worse than the Cruciatus Curse.

Harry fell to his knees in front of his mirror, his eyes screwed shut and clutching his stomach. His breaths came out in short, sharp gasps. It felt like his bones, his organs, were rearranging themselves inside his body. Harry couldn't take it, he let out one low scream, and then another. Suddenly, the Dursley's didn't matter anymore, and Harry continued to scream. And then, just as it had started, everything stopped.

Harry took a few deep breaths, and slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with the intense yellow orbs of a basilisk. He slammed his eyes shut once more, wondering why he wasn't dead and how on earth a basilisk had gotten inside his room. Harry slowly started reaching for his wand, when he suddenly remembered that he had been facing a mirror.

He opened his eyes once more, and there was the basilisk. Harry blinked, the basilisk blinked. Harry swayed his neck, the basilisk swayed his neck. Harry stuck out his tongue; the basilisk's forked tongue appeared. Harry slowly looked down at his body and wasn't entirely shocked to see the body of a snake.

"Bloody hell," said Harry, but it came out as a low hiss.

He looked up into the mirror once again. He was not nearly as big as the basilisk he had fought in the Chamber of Secrets, only six feet long. His scales weren't that sickly, poisonous green, but instead a shade of deepest black, like his hair.

_Okay, Harry, calm down_, he thought, _just because you are a basilisk is no reason to panic, no reason at all._

He slithered forward experimentally, and was surprised to find how fast he could move. Harry wondered how on earth he was supposed to change back into himself, and cursed the fact that he hadn't borrowed that book about animagi from Hermione. He closed his deadly yellow eyes and tried to picture himself as a human. He felt something in his stomach tighten, and squirm, and then he opened his eyes. Staring back at him were his normal, human, green eyes.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and sat stunned on the floor, too shocked to notice that his glasses were lying next to him, but that he could still see clearly. He shakily got to his feet, and tried to push his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose before he noticed they were missing. He searched the floor, and upon finding them, put them on, only to take them right back off again when everything became blurry.

"Strange," Harry muttered.

He placed his glasses on his desk, and when he heard Hedwig hoot softly, he turned towards her, only to find that she was hiding in her cage.

"Oh, Hedwig," he said, gently stroking her snowy feathers. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry, but I honestly didn't know I was going to be turning into a basilisk."

Hedwig hooted again and gently nipped one of his fingers, before turning her head in the direction of the mirror and hooting again.

"What is it?" asked Harry, as he slowly, apprehensively went to stand in front of the mirror.

What he saw shocked him almost as much as when he saw the basilisk. There was a raw, black energy surrounding Harry, crackling in the air. It made him appear to be some sort of dark creature. Harry slowly reached up to touch his face. His skin felt normal. But there was no mistaking the powerful energy surrounding him.

Harry fell back onto his bed, a feeling of immense confusion overwhelming him. What was happening? Was all this part of his inheritance? And why was his animagus form a basilisk? Harry had never heard of someone's animagus form being a magical creature before. It just wasn't possible. He wanted desperately to write Hermione. She would know what was going on, but he decided against it. He felt the need to tell someone, however.

Harry thought for a moment, and then hurriedly sat down at his desk. He took a piece of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and began writing a letter. When he was finished he rolled it up and tied it with string.

"Hedwig," whispered Harry. "I have a letter for you."

Hedwig stuck out her leg and Harry tied the letter to it.

"Take this to Professor Dumbledore," said Harry, watching his snowy owl blink and then fly out the open window and into the night.

Harry crawled onto his bed once more and curled up under the blankets. It wasn't cold in his room, but he felt chilled down to his bones. Finally, with one great yawn, Harry let his body succumb to exhaustion.

Albus Dumbledore couldn't sleep. He believed that insomnia was now presenting itself as a regular visitor at his doorstep. The old wizard found he often couldn't sleep, although tonight it was over a different matter. Harry Potter would be turning sixteen in just a few minutes.

Albus sighed and put his head in his hands. He wondered what the boy's inheritance was going to be, and if he was prepared for it. He wondered how Harry was going to react when he found out about the letter Dumbledore had received just a few days ago. It was terrible keeping secrets from Harry, and Dumbledore knew this one would come as quite a shock.

He glanced at his clock, it was midnight.

Dumbledore sighed again and slowly stood up from his chair. He made his way towards Fawkes's perch. The beautiful phoenix was watching him intently. Dumbledore stroked his golden plumage, marveling yet again at how soft and warm the feathers were.

"Why does everything have to happen to that boy?" asked Dumbledore, as his old hand wandered over the feathers.

Fawkes looked at him and blinked.

Dumbledore chuckled sadly. "You're right." he said. "Harry Potter isn't a boy, hasn't been one for so long now. It is time I learned to treat him like the adult he is. It is hard thought, Fawkes. I look at him and I see someone who is brave, and strong, but still so small and childlike."

Fawkes let one piercing note drip from his beak, before turning his eyes to the window. Dumbledore looked, and saw the unmistakable owl of Harry Potter flying towards him. The old man crossed the room with considerable speed and opened the window, letting the snowy feathered bird fly in.

Hedwig landed on his desk, and Dumbledore immediately took the letter from her leg. She didn't fly away, but ruffled her feathers and stared expectantly at Dumbledore. He smiled at the bird, offered her a lemon drop (which she refused), and opened the letter.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_I am sure you know all about the supposed inheritance one receives on their sixteenth birthday, therefore, I won't take the time to explain it to you. I am also sure you know that I just turned sixteen, and therefore gained my inheritance. _

_To put it bluntly, professor, I am worried. My inheritance pushed my animagus transformation. I guess that isn't so bad, but my form is an animal I didn't think it was possible to turn into, a magical creature. _

_Just out of curiosity, professor, has that ever happened before? I mean, the marauders all turned into normal, everyday animals, and even Professor McGonagall turns into a plain old tabby cat, which is very nice, might I add. But I have never heard of anyone turning into a magical creature._

_Alright, I know I'm stalling, and that I just need to come out and say it, so here goes. I'm a basilisk. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, professor, but that isn't normal. I would really like an explanation as to why this is happening. And also, I know that animagus transformations are shaky and unstable if pushed by inheritance, so I'm wondering if it is safe for me to continue living here at my aunt and uncle's. I don't think it would be good if I were to lose my temper and transform in front of them, especially since I can now kill them with one glance. _

_One other thing. There seems to be a sort of raw energy surrounding me. I'm not sure what it is, but I can see it. It is black, and I'm not too sure if I like it. Other than those things, though, I don't feel any different. Oh, I don't need my glasses anymore. Strange. _

_I await your reply,_

_Harry Potter_

Dumbledore put the letter down and frowned thoughtfully. It was clear what the underlying message was in Harry's letter; what the heck is happening to me and get me out of here now. It was actually quite funny. But the information contained in the letter wasn't.

A basilisk. That was certainly unusual. Harry was right in his assumption; there were no records of magical creature animagi. Dumbledore sighed; it was obvious Harry couldn't stay at the Dursley's anymore, at least not until he got his transformation under control. He would need to call an Order meeting.

And what Harry described as 'raw energy', was really his aura. It showed how powerful he was becoming. Dumbledore was worried by the fact that it was black. That showed an affinity towards the Dark Arts. He really needed to call an Order meeting.

Dumbledore chuckled slightly as Hedwig hooted at him. The owl was waiting for a return letter. The old wizard pulled a blank piece of parchment in front of him, and reached for a quill. He quickly wrote a letter to Harry, which he tied to Hedwig's leg, and watched the snowy owl soar out the window.

Dumbledore's shoulders slumped slightly as he put his head in his hands. This was certainly going to be an interesting year, especially for Harry. If he was taking his inheritance this way, Dumbledore wondered how he would take his other piece of news. The Headmaster resolved to tell Harry this one final secret as soon as he got the chance.


	2. Inheritance Part Two

Disclaimer - Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to JK Rowling. I am simply borrowing her characters for a plot of my own. However, Aradol Masai is mine, so keep your hands away!

Author's Note - This chapter centers around Hermione. The main ships in this story are DM/HP, HG/OC. They all have an equally important role, and will therefore sort of alternate chapters until they all meet up. I hope you don't become impatient with me, because the parts that have Hermione are very important to the story, and eventually everything connects.

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! I shall answer your reviews at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Two: Inheritance – Part Two

Hermione Granger leaned back on her pillows and sighed happily. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would turn sixteen. She was excited, nervous, anxious, and scared out of her mind all at once. Hermione had heard all the stories about what happens when a witch or wizard turn sixteen. They supposedly come into their 'inheritance.'

Hermione was reading a book on it right now. In most cases, the magical level of the person in question would increase, or they would develop an affinity for a certain subject. In some of the rarer, more extreme cases, a person's appearance would change, or the level of their inheritance might make them suddenly obtain an animagus form. That was the rarest case of all, and extremely dangerous. A person who was pushed into their animagus form by their inheritance couldn't control the transformation as well, and would often change when angered or sad, even if they didn't want to.

Hermione was hoping she would come into a more _normal _inheritance. She supposed her magic level would go up, and maybe she would become more talented at Charms, or Transfiguration. Her best friend Ron Weasley had recently had his sixteenth birthday. His magic had increased four times over what he already had, and, much to his disappointment, he had developed an affinity towards Divination. Hermione's other best friend, Harry Potter, had turned sixteen just days ago, but he hadn't contacted her about what he received for his inheritance.

Hermione flipped a page in her book and continued reading. She heard the doorbell ring downstairs but didn't bother getting up. Her parents were still down there, enjoying their after-dinner coffee, and Hermione knew they would get the door. She heard muffled speaking, and then her name being called. Hermione sighed and put down her book, gingerly hopping off her bed and walking downstairs.

"Ah, there you are, Hermione," said her mother, smiling happily. "A visitor is here to see you."

Hermione nodded as she observed her mother. Jody Granger was thirty-eight years old, but she didn't look a day over twenty-five. Her skin was creamy and smooth, and her eyes were a sparkling blue. Her dark brown hair, which was full of waves, was cut short, falling just above her shoulders. She was tall, with a slightly curvy form.

Hermione's father, Herman Granger, was also tall, and very muscular. His hair was light brown, and only slightly speckled with gray. His eyes were exactly like Hermione's, the color of honey. In short, Hermione looked barely anything like either of her parents. Her hair was a dark chocolate brown, the same as her mother's, but instead of being wavy, it was overly bushy. She wasn't very tall, only 5'4". She supposed there were some similarities, but not many.

Hermione snapped out of her silent observations and smiled at her parents. "Of course," she said. "Who is here?"

"That would be me, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked over her mother's shoulder and met the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Headmaster!" Hermione cried, surprised that the wizard had come to her house. "Please, do come in and sit down."

They made their way into the sitting room. Hermione's parents sat on the couch, Dumbledore took an armchair, and Hermione curled up in the other armchair.

"Has something happened, professor?" asked Hermione immediately. "Is Harry okay, and what about the Weasley's? Has there been an attack?"

Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "No, my dear, nothing like that." he said. "Although there is quite a bit going on with Harry at the moment. Though, that is another story. No, I have come to discuss with you a matter your parents told me about."

Hermione's eyes flickered towards her parents, and she was worried to see the looks of sorrow and pain on their faces. She raised one eyebrow in question as she turned back to Dumbledore.

"First I must ask you how you are feeling." said Dumbledore.

Hermione grimaced as she remembered the incident at the Ministry of Magic at the end of her fifth year. The Death Eater Dolohov had hit her with a curse that had almost killed her. Luckily, Madame Pomfrey was a very skilled medi-witch, and had healed her right and proper.

"I am fine, professor." replied Hermione, trying to put on a cheerful face. "The pain in my chest is completely gone now, and I stopped taking potions a week ago."

"That is excellent news, Miss Granger." said Dumbledore.

"But not what you wanted to talk to me about." Hermione stated. "Let's get right to the point, professor."

Dumbledore sighed. "Always the perceptive one, Miss Granger." he said. "Before anything is said, I must first apologize to you. I fear that I, along with your parents, have kept many secrets from you, secrets that should have been told. I learned my lesson with Harry. The secrets come out now."

Hermione let out a nervous laugh. "I'm not sure I understand you professor." she said, trying to make her voice sound calm. "How could my parents and you be keeping secrets from me? I mean, my parents are muggles, there is nothing to hide…"

Hermione's worried eyes traveled to her parents. She was dismayed to see how sad they were looking. A few tears even leaked out of her mother's eyes. "Mum, dad?" she asked.

Jody Granger hurriedly wiped her eyes and smiled weakly at her daughter. "First, Hermione, I should inform you that your father and I are not muggles, we are, in fact, squibs."

Hermione stared wide-eyed at her parents. Her breath started to come in short gasps and she felt like walls were closing in around her.

"Please, calm down, Mi," said Herman Granger.

Hermione's head snapped toward him, her eyes still as wide as saucers. "Calm down? You inform me just now that you are squibs and have therefore been lying to me for nearly sixteen years and you expect me to calm down!"

"Miss Granger," interrupted Professor Dumbledore. "Hermione, it would do well to listen to the rest of the story. Your parents had a reason for what they did."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut and turned back towards her parents, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

"We were not always squibs, Mi," said Mr. Granger. "Your mother and I were once a witch and wizard, and we attended Hogwarts."

Hermione felt her anger fading away at that announcement. "You went to Hogwarts?"

"That's right," said Mrs. Granger smiling. "All seven years. I was a Gryffindor, proud and brave as they come." she added, winking at Dumbledore.

Hermione smiled. "And what House were you in dad? Gryffindor as well?"

Mr. Granger smiled but shook his head. "No, I myself was a Ravenclaw. Top of my year."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "I still don't understand. If you were once magical, why aren't you now? And why couldn't you tell me sooner?"

"It would do well to know, Hermione," said Dumbledore. "That you're parents were active in the first war against Voldemort. The real story starts there."

"That's right," said Mrs. Granger. "It was a dark time, Mi. Even worse than now. Voldemort was at the height of his power, and your father and I were actively fighting against him. It was terrible watching our friends and family being destroyed by that wizard. The Longbottoms being tortured, the Potters going into hiding, and even poor Remus as he tried to gather the support of the werewolves."

"However," cut in Mr. Granger. "We persisted. There came a time, though, when we were cornered by Death Eaters. We couldn't get away and were preparing for the worst. That was when a miracle happened. A clan of vampires joined the Light Side, and saved us from certain death. We were forever grateful to them, and owed them a great debt."

"However, when it came time to pay that debt," said Mrs. Granger, and a tear leaked from her eye. "We couldn't do it. We didn't have what they wanted. So the prince of the vampires took our magic, and was about to take yours as well. You were so small, barely over a year old, and we couldn't let that happen."

"The vampire prince made a deal with us," said Mr. Granger. "He would let you keep your magic if…if we agreed to let you…you…"

Hermione turned questioning eyes towards Dumbledore.

"If they set up an arranged marriage between the two of you." supplied the Headmaster quietly. "You are betrothed, Miss Granger, to Prince Aradol of the Masai Vampire Clan."

Hermione just sat there, wide-eyed, staring at the professor. "I'm what?" she asked, but it came out as little more than a whisper.

Her mother burst into quiet sobs, covering her face with her hands. "I'm so – sorry, Mi," she gasped out between sobs. "My darling daughter – there was n-nothing – we could d-do."

Hermione felt her own eyes filling with tears. "You knew this whole time?" she asked, turning toward Dumbledore.

The twinkle so normally visible in his blue eyes was gone now, replaced with sadness, and guilt.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he said quietly. "I knew."

Hermione felt her face heat up in anger. "And you didn't try to stop it!" she half shouted. "You didn't try to do anything!"

"He did try, Mi," said Mr. Granger. "He held numerous councils with the vampires. He tried different forms of negotiations, nothing worked."

"Is that true?" asked Hermione desperately. "There is really nothing to be done?"

"I am sorry, Miss Granger." said Dumbledore. "I tried, just like your parents said. I held council with Prince Aradol, I even took the matter to the Ministry, but nothing could be done. Aradol is a magical creature, a vampire. Every male vampire needs a Bride, kind of like every veela needs a mate. Aradol chose you as his Bride, and there is nothing the Ministry can do to prevent that from happening."

Hermione closed her eyes and a few tears leaked out from under her lids, leaving small beads of water clinging to her lashes. "So all of my life has been a lie. I am not a mudblood, and I am betrothed to a complete stranger." she said, more to herself than anyone else.

She stood up abruptly and looked at her parents. "Mum, dad, I'm not angry with you, I just need to be alone for a while. I need to think." she headed towards the stairs and started walking up, though she looked over her shoulder. "Good evening, professor."

And then she was gone.

Hermione entered her room and threw herself down on the bed. She curled herself into a ball and let the silent streams of tears fall down her cheeks. She had just found out that her parents were squibs and had basically given her away as a baby. She was betrothed, to a complete stranger and a vampire no less.

Hermione closed her eyes and shivered helplessly. She emptied her mind of thought and tried to fall asleep, though her body did not obey her wishes for a long time. By the time she finally did fall asleep, it was late in the night, and the moon was shining in through the glass panes of her window.

Outside, on a branch of the big oak tree in the Granger yard, sat a large black raven. It stared in through the window with sharp obsidian eyes. It watched as the brown haired girl cried herself to sleep, with a strangely compassionate expression. When all was still inside the room, the raven took flight, and disappeared into the night.

hr>

That's all for now. So, on to the reviews.

**HecateDeMorte - Thanks, I am glad you like it. **

**Yana5 - We'll just wait and see, shall we?**

**Elektra107 - Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it. **

**lazy person - Yeah, I wanted to do something really original and surprising for Harry's animagus form. I wanted him to have the transformation early in the story, without the whole long process.And I also think a basilisk fits. There will be more of Draco and Harry next chapter. I am hoping to create a very unique veela story. There are a lot of them out there, and I am hoping mine will be different. Of course, I think we all love a beautiful Draco. **

**Earthwytch - Yeah, I was trying to use the element of surprise with the basilisk form. I do love a powerful!Harry, and every once in a while an evil!Harry, but only if the story is right. Evil!Harry isn't right for this story. **

**Jolene Kaye - Thanks very much! It means a lot to me. **

**Angelic Sazuka - Thanks!**

**kavfh - Lol! Thanks! I will try and update regularly. **

**Brenna8 - Yes, the evil author would be my Slytherin side. I love to leave people hanging!**

**sincerity and faith - It was either going to be a basilisk or a panther for Harry's transformation. I decided on the basilisk because I wanted him to be something powerful and magical. I did think it would surprise everyone. **

**Thanks again for all your reviews! Next chapter soon.**


	3. Return to Grimmauld Place

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry isn't mine, neither is Draco Malfoy. Pitty really. I am just using them in my own plot.

Author's Note: Thanks again to all my reviewers! I shall answer at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Three: Return to Grimmauld Place

Harry Potter heard the doorbell ring, but he didn't bother moving. In fact, he hadn't moved much for the better part of two days. The room he stayed in at the Dursley's, he would never consider it _his_ room, was dark and cold. The sun had just gone down, but Harry didn't bother to turn on the light. He lay on his bed, still and silent, thinking.

He had sent his letter to Dumbledore two days ago, and had received one in reply stating that someone from the Order would be there to pick him up at the soonest possible time. No one had come yet. Harry didn't mind, he was learning to be patient, and the thought that he would be leaving soon kept him going.

Harry hadn't left his room since then except for a few times late at night. He was afraid to be around the Dursley's, lest they should anger him enough that he would loose control and turn into a basilisk. He was so hungry, starving in fact, but he couldn't eat a lot, or else Petunia would notice the missing food. At least the black energy that had been surrounding him was gone now.

Harry sat up on his bed and his stomach growled loudly, but he ignored it, instead listening to the sound of slightly unfamiliar footsteps moving closer towards his door. There was a soft knock, and the door was pushed open. A figure wearing a brown cloak and hood stepped into the room.

Harry jumped up immediately, wand drawn, but the figure lowered their hood and Harry nearly dropped his wand in amazement.

"Professor Lupin?" he cried, feeling very stupid with his mouth hanging open.

"Hello, Harry," said Remus Lupin, his voice tired. "I have come to take you to Headquarters. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded. "I already packed everything," he said, pointing to his trunk. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

Remus nodded and moved closer to him. He gripped Harry's shoulders and stared intently into his eyes. "How are you, Harry? How are you really?"

Harry sighed. He didn't want to talk about this with anyone, he couldn't. The one person who he would have felt comfortable talking to was Sirius, and Sirius was…dead. But Harry looked up into the tired eyes of his old professor, noticed the larger amount of gray hairs, and realized he wasn't the only one suffering.

"I'm not doing too well," said Harry, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He tried pushing his glasses up his nose and once again remembered he didn't need them anymore.

"You look like you haven't slept for ages," said Remus, pushing Harry back onto the bed and sitting beside him. "And you surely haven't been eating enough."

"I've been having nightmares," Harry whispered. "Every night. I can hardly sleep anymore. All I can see are S-Sirius falling through the Veil, and Voldemort, and Cedric. Mostly Sirius. Even when I'm not asleep, that's all I'm able to see."

"I know it's hard, Harry," said Remus quietly. "Merlin knows it is just as hard for me, but you need to try and let it go. Sirius would want you to be happy."

"Sirius would want to be alive," argued Harry, scooting away from Remus. "And it is my fault he isn't."

"Don't say things like that, Harry." whispered Remus.

"Well it's true!" said Harry. "If I had studied Occlumency harder, if I hadn't been so careless, Sirius would be alive! Why, why do I have to be so foolish?"

His last words came out so broken, that Remus felt himself breaking as well. "Please, Harry," he said. "Nothing more like that. I don't want to hear anything like that coming from your mouth again. You were tricked by Voldemort. Many great people, most of them older and wiser than you, have been tricked by Voldemort. It is hard, I know, but you must let it go."

"How?" asked Harry. "How do I let it go? How can I make the images go away?"

"It won't be easy, Harry," replied Remus. "Things like this never are. I myself am only just starting to get over it. I lost Lily and James, and then Peter to the Dark Side, and then Sirius. But I still have you, Harry. Seeing you here, alive, if not as well as I would have liked, is enough to get me going again. To me, Harry, you are worth living for, and I imagine you will find something worth living for too."

Harry looked at him with wide eyes, and suddenly, all the emotions he had been hiding for so long burst forth. He buried his head in his hands as silent sobs wracked his body, tears that had been trapped inside through all of his trials leaked down his face. Harry wasn't sure how long they sat that way, with Remus' comforting arms wrapped around him, but he felt completely overwhelmed by all the things he was feeling. Harry couldn't remember ever feeling so much at once, and when he felt a wriggling deep in his belly, he knew he was losing control of his emotions.

"Calm down, Harry," came the soft voice of Remus. "I don't want you turning into a basilisk on me. Which is a bloody wicked animagus form, by the way."

Harry looked up at him, surprised. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I think it is the worst sort of animal anyone could turn into."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" asked Remus in an amused voice. "Believe it or not, Harry, basilisks don't always kill you by looking at you. They only do that if they really have to, or if their master orders them. I assume you are the only living basilisk now, but back when they were common, they were able to produce a sort of film over their eyes that would disable the killing factor."

Harry looked curious now. "Really?"

Remus nodded. "I'm sure with a little practice you'll be able to do the same."

There was a pause in conversation while Harry double checked to make sure he had packed everything.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" asked Remus gently. "You still seem bothered about something."

Harry looked up and sighed. "I'm fine, really," he said. "It's just, I don't know how well I'll be able to handle it, being back at Grimmauld Place."

"I know," said Remus, nodding in an understanding way. "It was hard for me too. Don't worry, it will get easier."

Harry nodded. "Okay, I guess I'm ready to go, then."

"Right," said Remus, pulling a wrist watch out of a pocket in his tatty robes. "We'll be traveling by portkey, Dumbledore reckons it's safest."

Harry nodded and put a hand on his trunk and the other on the portkey. Remus tucked Hedwig's cage under his arm and tapped the watch with his wand.

"One…two…three…" he said.

Harry closed his eyes as he felt the jerk behind his navel, and then he was spinning away from his room.

hr>

Draco Malfoy was the perfect Slytherin. He was cold, cruel, and cunning. The older students of Hogwarts respected him, and the younger years feared him. During his time at the magical school, Draco had set up for himself a certain image that would define his character. Do well in classes, throw insults at the mudbloods, and hate anything and everything to do with Harry Potter.

Draco had done a very good job of it for five years, but times were changing, and he was too. Not many people knew that Narcissa Malfoy was three-fourths veela, Draco himself hadn't known until his tenth birthday. What a birthday that had been, when Draco's whole world changed.

His parents had thrown a party for him and it had all been very grand. After the party, and before Draco went to bed, his parents had told him a story about veela. Being just ten years old, and having only heard rumors about the magical creatures, Draco thought it was a story made up to entertain him. How wrong he had been.

When Draco had learned that he himself was half veela, he hadn't understood. His parents said he would, with time, and though a little frustrated, he learned to accept it. The first changes came before his first year at Hogwarts. His hair had lightened from a golden blonde, to a silvery blonde. The next change was when Draco found out that all veela mate for life, and he would, in fact, need a mate.

How surprised he had been to find that Harry Potter, the one person he was supposed to hate above all, was his mate. He wasn't quite sure how he had figured it out, perhaps through scent, or perhaps some other veela instinct. He had been very confused at first, and had asked his parents why his mate was a boy. His mother had explained that veela did not choose their mates based off of gender, but simply by who would be best for the veela.

Lucius, Draco's father, hadn't been at all pleased that Harry Potter was his mate. That was when Draco started to loose respect for his father. A sudden urge to protect what was rightfully his had welled up inside him, and he had bravely, if not foolishly, announced that no one would hurt Harry Potter while he lived. Lucius had stared at him for a moment, and then stormed gracefully out of the room.

How hard it had been for Draco to see Harry hurt so many times in the past five years. How hard it had been knowing that he had caused some of the hurting. But Draco had an image to keep, as well as a father and a Dark Lord to please. But he was done now. He was not going to please them anymore.

When Lucius had been sent away to Azkaban, Narcissa and Draco had fled to one of her childhood homes, seeking the protection of Dumbledore. He had been glad to help, and had hidden Draco and his mother in Grimmauld Place. The old Headmaster had also informed to the two that Harry Potter would be arriving soon, and since he was Draco's mate, they had also been informed about his inheritance.

The last bits of Draco's own inheritance had already come. He was taller now, standing at an even six feet. His body was sleek and toned, and his clear gray eyes had turned a stunning silver. The famous veela Charm had also shown itself, and it proved very hard to deal with, as most people who saw Draco now fell all over him. Luckily, there weren't many people coming and going from Grimmauld Place, so no one was falling over Draco there.

The silver haired Slytherin sighed and leaned his head against the window. It was dark out, and the stars were veiled by blackness. Draco knew that Harry would be arriving soon. He wondered what he would say to him. It wasn't easy, trying to come up with a good reason for your actions without explaining everything. He would eventually explain everything to Harry, but not now. Now he just wanted to see him, to smell him. Draco had been denied his mate for so long, he couldn't wait anymore.

Draco sat up straighter as he felt the air currents in the house change, signaling the arrival of someone by portkey. That was one of the few things Draco liked about being a veela, his senses were sharpened. Draco heard muffled voices down stairs and quickly left the room he and his mother were sharing. He stepped out onto the landing and looked down over the banister. He could just make out the forms of Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and the werewolf, Remus Lupin in the hall.

"I believe, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. "That for you to truly understand, you should read this letter."

The Headmaster took a piece of parchment out of his robes and handed it to Harry. The emerald eyed boy took the parchment and read it quickly, a frown forming on his face. Draco knew what the frown was for. Harry was reading the letter that Narcissa had sent to Dumbledore, explaining their situation, and how Harry was Draco's mate.

When Harry finished reading, he looked up at the two wizards before him. "This is a joke, right?" he asked, trying to sound calm, but Draco could detect a hint of nerves. "I mean, this isn't serious is it?"

Lupin growled low in his throat and crossed his arms. "I wish it wasn't," he said. "Trust me, Harry, if I had any say in this, you wouldn't even be-"

"You do not have a say, Remus," interrupted Dumbledore calmly. "Nor do I. It is against the law to try and separate a magical being from his mate, especially if the separation could be life threatening. Isn't that right, Mister Malfoy?"

Draco jumped slightly at hearing his name called. He looked down and saw a very angry Lupin, a confused Harry, and a slightly amused Dumbledore all looking up at him.

"Er, yes, that's right, professor." he said.

"Why don't you come down here, Mister Malfoy." said Dumbledore again.

Draco's heart skipped a beat. Come down? Next to Harry? He nodded his head once and gracefully flew down the stairs, coming to a stop across from his mate. Harry was looking at him, his brilliant green eyes narrowed suspiciously. Draco inhaled deeply, and Harry's intoxicating scent filled his senses. He smelled like exotic spices. Draco observed the Boy Who Lived carefully. He was shorter than the blonde, standing at about 5'9". His skin was tanned nicely, like the soft golden color of freshly baked bread. His jet black hair was as untidy as ever, sticking up in every possible direction. In short, the Gryffindor was simply gorgeous.

"…what it means to be a veela's mate?" said Dumbledore.

Draco turned his silver gaze on the old professor. "I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

Dumbledore chuckled amusedly and repeated his question. "Maybe you could explain to Harry what it means exactly to be a veela's mate."

"Right," said Draco, turning towards Harry. "Of course. Okay, Potter, here's how it works. Every veela, male and female, need a mate. They can live for many years without the presence of their mate, but once the veela reaches a certain maturity level, the mate is needed. If the veela were for some reason be denied their mate, their health would slowly deteriorate, until the veela wasted away from depression."

Harry's green eyes widened. "And this will happen to you as well if I don't agree to be your, er, mate?"

Draco nodded.

Harry's gaze left Draco and turned to the professors. "And this is really serious?" he asked. "It's not just some sick and twisted joke?"

"Of course it's not." growled Draco. "Do you think I would joke about something like this? Merlin, Potter, how thick are you?"

Harry's head turned so fast Draco was afraid he might get whiplash. His piercing emerald eyes were glaring at Draco, and for the first time, the blonde noticed what was mainly different about Harry. His magical aura was simply pulsing with black energy, making the boy look dangerous and threatening. Draco blinked a few times, trying to make his veela enhanced senses go away.

"I need to think about this," said Harry through clenched teeth. "Don't approach me again, Malfoy, I can't be around you right now."

Draco watched as Harry stomped up the stairs, his black hair flying behind him. The Slytherin turned to look at his professors, his eyes full of sadness and guilt.

"Don't worry, Draco," said Dumbledore sympathetically. "Harry is stubborn, but he will make the right choice. Just give him a little time."

Draco nodded dejectedly, and then climbed the stairs towards his own room.

hr>

The resounding BANG of a door slamming could be heard all throughout the house. Harry Potter was in a very bad mood, and he didn't care if the door suffered at the moment.

He took a deep, calming breath and looked around the room he and Ron had shared last summer. Nothing about it was different. Harry walked slowly over to one of the beds and put his head down in his hands. If he had known that turning sixteen was going to bring this many new problems into his life, he would have killed himself while he had the chance.

Harry sighed as he remembered what had happened when he and Lupin arrived in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Professor Dumbledore had been there, and hadn't wasted a minute explaining to Harry what was going on. He had been informed that Professor McGonagall was going to help him with his animagus transformation once he got back to school, so that he could get it under control.

Harry had eagerly agreed, glad that the Headmaster wasn't wasting any time. However, when Harry had asked about the black energy that had been surrounding him, Dumbledore immediately changed the subject. That frustrated Harry to no end. He wasn't a child anymore! He was the savior of the wizarding world, for Merlin's sake! He deserved to be told things, especially things concerning him.

But what pissed Harry off more than anything, was the fact that he had just been told that he was a veela's mate, Draco Malfoy's mate. Harry looked down at his hand and saw that the letter Dumbledore had given him to read was still there. He unfolded it, smoothed it out, and read it again.

_Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_Greetings. I write to you this day on behalf of my son, Draco Alexander Malfoy, Heir to the Malfoy name and fortune, student, and half veela._

_I fear, headmaster, that I have kept many secrets from you, unwilling on my part. I am, as you have probably already guessed, at least three-fourths veela, and that makes my son a half veela. He has known since his tenth birthday, and it was by Lucius' wish that he keep it a secret. _

_My son has also known who his mate is since he was eleven. You may be surprised to hear that Harry Potter is in fact my son's mate. Then again, knowing not many things surprise you, you may just have an amused smile on your face and that annoying twinkle in your eye. Forgive me, dear Albus, but know that I pen these words as terms of endearment. _

_With the knowledge that Harry Potter is my son's mate, I hope that you will help us. Draco has recently come into his full powers and it is hard for him to be without his mate. I know what it is like. I never did find my mate, and I will do anything to make sure Draco gets his._

_My husband, Lucius, is still in Azkaban, as I am sure you know. I ask, plead, and beg protection for my son and me. It will only be a matter of time before Lucius and the other Death Eaters are broken free, and then the Dark Lord will know that Harry Potter is Draco's mate. _

_The Dark Lord must not be able to use Draco, for inside him resides the desire to do anything to protect his mate, even kill. Now I am sure you see, headmaster, how it would be a terrible misfortune were the Dark Lord to get hold of him, which he surely will if we remain here any longer. _

_Once again I tell you that this letter is written on behalf of one I love, one who is my whole world, and one who needs protection. Please, help us. _

_I await your reply,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Harry let the letter float to the floor as he put his head in his hands once more. At first he thought it was a joke, some kind of twisted form of amusement for the Malfoys. But now he realized it was completely true. He was Draco Malfoys mate. The thought confused him, angered him beyond belief.

Harry let out a low scream and slipped from the bed, landing on his knees on the floor. He sat that way for a moment, enjoying the blankness his mind had drifted into, when he suddenly noticed something. It felt like the floor was about to give way beneath him.

Harry scooted back and examined the space closely, his eyes widening at what he found. One of the floorboards was loose. Harry ran his fingers along the seams, trying to find a way to lift the board. One of his fingers caught a small hollow, and Harry pulled the board free. A cloud of dust rose to greet him, and Harry sneezed several times before the dust cleared.

Books. There were at least ten books hidden in the space beneath the floor. Harry sighed. That wasn't what he had been expecting. All the same, he gingerly plucked a book away from the others. He used the back of his had to clear it of dust and then dropped the book in alarm. _Black Magic _was its title, and Harry realized with a start that it was an illegal book full of dark spells and curses.

He sat there, staring at the book for a moment, before picking it up again and opening it. Up in the corner of the title page, written in a tiny scrawl, were the words _Property of Regulus Black_. Harry's mouth dropped open. Regulus had been Sirius's brother, and this must have been his room.

Harry wasn't exactly sure why he did what he did next. He put the loose floorboard back in its place, lit a candle, crawled into bed, and began reading the book he had found. If anyone had bothered to check on him late in the night, they would have seen the fading orange light of a candle seeping out from under the closed bedroom door. However, no one did bother to check on him, and therefore no one knew that Harry Potter, savior of the magical world, ultimate Light wizard, was reading a book about the Dark Arts.

hr>

That's all for now. Here are the answers to your reviews!

**Elektra107 - Thanks bunches!**

**HecateDeMorte - Heh, thanks!**

**Bonnie4 - Thanks!**

**Makalani Astral - I'm glad you like it!**

**Ashes of Stars - Thanks! Yeah, all the story lines end up connected later. I'm glad you understand.**

**kavfh - Lol! Yeah, lucky Hermione. More with her and the vampires next chapter. **

**RoganLuvr - Thanks, glad you like!**

**Rock and Sarcasm - Thanks!**

**Circe-Asteria - Yeah, that's what I thought when I wrote it. I'm glad you liked. **

**KaylaisEvenstar - Thanks! I'm always writing, don't worry!**

**Yami no Kaze - Next chapter will have more infor about Hermione and the vampires.**

**Mystical Moonstar - Thanks!**

**Kittyvamp.-harry - Thanks!**

**Sweet-single - Thanks!**

Next chapter will feature Hermione and the vampires!


	4. Preparations

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Sadly. I simply use the characters for my own adventures. However, I do own Clara.

Author's Note: Wow, I am so sorry it took me so long to update. I usually get a chapter out in about a week but I have been very busy lately. This is actually only half of chapter 4, but I hadn't finished it yet and didn't want to keep you all waiting any longer, so I decided to just post this. Now, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Four: Preparations

Sunlight was streaming in through the window, bathing the room in golden light, but still the sleeping girl did not wake. Jody Granger smiled at her daughter as she sat down on the bed, trying to blink back her tears. She ran her hand through the girl's curly tresses and whispered quietly in her ear.

"Wake up, Hermione," she said, gently caressing her daughters face. "It is past eleven, happy birthday, dear. Wake up."

Hermione sighed slightly and rolled over. Her honey colored eyes opened slowly, blinking at her mother through the light. She sighed softly and sat up, the sheets rustling around her.

"Good morning, mum," she said quietly. "What did you say, past eleven?"

Mrs. Granger nodded. "Yes, sweet, happy birthday. Oh, you look so beautiful, my wonderful sixteen year old."

Hermione tilted her head to one side and blinked confusedly.

Jody smiled at her confusion. "Look in the mirror, darling."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she crawled out of bed and went to stand in front of her full length mirror. She glanced at her reflection and then did a double take, gasping at what she saw. Hermione Granger didn't look the same.

She appeared to have grown about four inches, standing at a lithe 5'8". Her skin was now creamy and smooth, like her mother's, and was in direct contrast with her dark hair, which was no longer bushy. Instead, Hermione was now sporting softly curled tresses, luxuriously silky to the touch. Her lips were full and pink, and her eyes, while remaining the same honey color, were bigger, more doe like.

Hermione had never viewed herself as being beautiful, perhaps cute, or even pretty, but never beautiful. No one could deny now that Hermione Granger was stunning.

Hermione turned towards her mother in shock. "What happened to me?"

"It's your inheritance, Mi," replied Mrs. Granger. "The same exact thing happened to me when I turned sixteen. Believe it or not, I too had impossibly bushy hair up until my inheritance."

Hermione turned back towards the mirror. Her mother came to stand beside her and Hermione gaped at how similar they looked. They were about the same height now, and if Hermione had been a bit older, or Jody a bit younger, they could have passed as sisters.

"None of my clothes are going to fit anymore," said Hermione. "I'm going to have to get new robes as well."

"Don't worry about that," said Mrs. Granger. "You can wear my clothes until I arrange a shopping trip. And then you can get new robes while in Diagon Alley for school supplies. Now, why don't you get cleaned up and come on down to the kitchen. Your father made you a wonderful birthday breakfast."

Hermione nodded and moved out into the hall and into the bathroom. She took a quick shower, pulled her new curls into a low ponytail, and then perused her mother's closet for something to wear. Luckily, Jody Granger was a very fashionable person, and Hermione quickly put on a pair of hip hugger jeans and a light blue t-shirt. Hermione had often admired her mother's clothes, and was very happy that she now had the body to fit into them.

A wonderful scent wafted to Hermione's nose as she went downstairs, and she immediately knew what was for breakfast. She smiled delightedly as she sat down at the table, and her father put a plate full of pancakes with strawberries and whip cream in front of her.

"My favorite," said Hermione, giving her father's hand a squeeze.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," whispered her dad. "Just like your mother."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks,"

Hermione started eating while her parents served themselves and sat down to join her. They all ate quietly for a few minutes, before Hermione realized that her parents were staring at her.

"What is it?" asked Hermione, apprehension growing in her stomach.

"Do you remember what we talked about last night, Mi?" asked Mr. Granger.

Hermione's eyes widened as the conversation with her parents and Dumbledore came crashing over her. How could she have forgotten it already? Hermione Granger did not forget things, especially life changing things like that.

"I remember," she whispered.

"Please don't be mad at us, Mi," said Mrs. Granger. "You understand we had no choice. They would have taken your magic away. We couldn't let that happen. It is the worst feeling in the world, having your magic removed from your body."

Hermione nodded. "Of course, I understand." she said. "I just wish you would have told me sooner. I mean, if I could have prepared for this, I would have gotten close to anyone else…"

"Are you close to someone, Hermione?" asked Mr. Granger.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Well, no, not really." she finally answered. "But, you both remember my friend Harry, don't you? Harry Potter?"

"That sweet boy?" asked Mrs. Granger, her eyes sparkling. "Yes, I remember him. Who could forget about the Savior of the wizarding world?"

"Yeah, well," said Hermione, blushing slightly. "I have always sort of fancied him. I mean, we are close, very close, but more in the brother and sister sense. I don't know if he sees me as anything more. But that is the point. If he did, and we really liked each other, it would all be ruined because of this."

"We should have told you," said Mr. Granger. "I am sorry we didn't. We just didn't want to burden you with this."

"I understand," said Hermione, smiling sweetly at her parents.

"Well then," said Mrs. Granger, clasping her hands nervously. "There is something else we need to tell you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"You have to go and meet with the vampires tonight." said Mrs. Granger in a rush. "Prince Aradol is expecting you to come to a ball tonight, held in your honor. It is a celebration for your birthday and your…engagement." the last word came out as a choked whisper.

"A ball?" asked Hermione. "I have to go?"

Mr. Granger nodded sadly. "Yes, but if it is any consolation, vampire balls are supposed to be the most glamorous of parties. And you won't be alone. Professor Dumbledore will be your escort."

Hermione nodded. "Okay," she said slowly. "Will I get to meet the prince there? And what am I supposed to wear?"

"You will get to meet the prince," said Mrs. Granger, smiling slightly. "And he is sending over one of his servants to dress you and do your hair."

Hermione nodded again. "Okay,"

No more was said.

hr>

The light was just starting to fade from the sky when the knock came at the door. Hermione had spent the day cooped up in her room, reading all of her school books. She was trying to find what subject her inheritance had given her an affinity for. So far she had read some of Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology. None of them seemed any different to her.

Hermione put down her book on Defense Against the Dark Arts, which she had just started to read, and made her way down the stairs to answer the door. Her parents were waiting in the kitchen, giving Hermione the chance to open the door, which she did.

A young woman was standing there, clad in a gray dress. A brown rope belt was securely tied around her thin waist, and her blond hair was pulled up into a gray cap. Her skin was lightly tanned, and her sparkling brown eyes were staring up at Hermione. She was smiling, and Hermione noticed that she still had human teeth. The woman suddenly gasped and dropped into a curtsey.

"Forgive me, milady," she whispered. "I forget my place." she rose and smoothed her dress. "I have been sent by Prince Aradol of the Masai Vampire Clan to prepare you for the ball."

Hermione realized suddenly that she was gaping at the woman and quickly snapped her mouth shut. "It's alright," she said. "Please, come in."

The woman smiled and picked up a large basket Hermione hadn't noticed. She stepped inside and they went up to Hermione's room after a brief introduction with her parents.

"You have a lovely house, milady," said the woman.

"Thank you," said Hermione, fidgeting nervously. "And please, call me Hermione. What should I call you?"

"Whatever you wish, milady," said the woman, setting her basket down and observing Hermione closely.

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from groaning in frustration. "Yes, but what is your name?"

The woman looked slightly shocked that Hermione would wish to call her by name. "Well, my mother called me Clara."

"Alright then," said Hermione. "I shall call you Clara, and you shall call me Hermione, or Mi if you wish."

The woman nodded shyly. "Hermione," she said. "That will do. But in the presence of the prince, the servants are to address you as 'milady' or 'Your Highness'. Now, where is your bath?"

Hermione managed to close her once again gaping mouth and led Clara into the bathroom. She set down her basket and started the taps, trying to get the water at the right temperature. She pulled a small bottle of pink liquid out of her basket and poured a drop into the bath, which immediately filled with rose scented bubbles. Clara replaced that bottle and pulled out two more bottles. Hermione couldn't see their contents.

"Come now, into the tub." said Clara, moving forward to undress her.

Hermione jumped back. "I can do it myself, thanks."

Clara smiled. "I know, but I am under strict orders to wash your hair. So, how about I turn around, and you get into the tub?"

"Okay," said Hermione slowly.

Clara turned around and Hermione quickly stripped, slipping into the bath and under the thick bubbles.

"I'm in," said Hermione.

Clara came to sit by the edge of the bath and started to wet Hermione's hair. As soon as the curly locks were dripping, Clara worked up a lather of shampoo from one of the bottles and started massaging it into Hermione's thick hair. She hated to admit it, but the ministrations felt wonderful. Hermione found herself leaning unconsciously into Clara's touch, and all too soon her hair was washed and clean.

Fluffy white bath robe wrapped tightly around her body, and a towel twisted around her hair, Hermione made her way back into her bedroom and sat down at her vanity at Clara's bidding. The towel was removed from her hair, and Clara quickly got to work, separating the long curls into four sections.

"What is the prince like?" asked Hermione suddenly, after Clara had been working on her hair for a while.

"Oh, he is right handsome," replied Clara. "His hair is blacker than midnight, and his eyes are just as dark. You get the shivers as soon as you look at him. At first glance he seems delicate, almost fragile, but he has a strength not possessed by many. It is hard to describe him with words, milady, do forgive me."

Hermione just smiled. In all honesty, she just wanted to get the night over with. It all seemed part of a dream, and Hermione knew that her real feelings about this whole situation would come at a later time. For now, she was immensely curious about vampires. She had never actually seen one, though she had read much about their kind.

"Turn around, if you please," said Clara. "It is time for your makeup."

Hermione turned and waited patiently while Clara pulled different things out of her basket. She wasn't used to someone waiting on her, it was all very strange. Clara didn't bother with foundation, stating that Hermione had perfect skin already. She got to work on her eyes first, using a black eye paint to coat the edges in liner, and applying enough mascara to make Hermione's eyelashes look long and thick. A dark gray shadow was smoothed over her eyelids.

"This is for your lips," said Clara, unscrewing the lid of a small container filled with what appeared to be red paint. "It is a type of stain, and will last you the whole evening."

Clara picked up a tiny brush and started coating Hermione's lips with the red stain. When she was done Hermione tentatively reached up and touched her smooth lips, but on pulling her hand away, found no gloss on her fingers. She smiled slightly.

"Alright, Hermione," said Clara. "This will be the tough part. Prince Aradol had a special outfit made for you. Have you ever worn a corset before?"

Hermione almost snorted. "A corset? No."

"Well you're going to have to wear one now," said Clara. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to have to help you. It will be impossible otherwise."

Hermione nodded. "I understand."

She stood up and took off the bathrobe, trying not to be too embarrassed. Clara, however, appeared completely unaffected, and simply handed Hermione a pair of black panties, which she quickly put on. The corset was a little more difficult. Clara kept pulling the laces in the back tighter and tighter, until Hermione thought for sure she would faint from lack of oxygen to her lungs. When the top was laced up, Clara handed Hermione a floor length black skirt, made of the smoothest silk. Hermione slipped it on and with some difficulty, turned to look at herself in the mirror.

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. Her hair was pulled into four low plaits, each one hanging down her back. Her eyes were smoky, her lips full and red, and her dress exquisite. The black corset was threaded with silver, and even had a few diamonds on it. It was pulled very tight, sliming Hermione's already small waist and pushing up her cleavage. The long silk skirt was gathered at the waist and loose at the bottom, creating a very flowing effect.

Hermione realized with a start that she looked like a princess. How ironic.

"You look beautiful, milady," said Clara. "Now for your shoes."

A pair of strappy silver sandals were pulled out of the basket and slipped onto Hermione's feet. When she stood up the heels made her two inches taller. She looked glamorous.

"I've never, ever looked like this before." whispered Hermione, gaping at her reflection.

She looked so much older than her sixteen years. She looked mysterious and alluring, but still completely innocent as well. The effect was stunning.

The doorbell ringing downstairs brought Hermione out of her silent reverie. She assumed it must be Professor Dumbledore, here to escort her to the ball.

"It is time, Hermione," said Clara, picking up her basket. "Come."

They walked downstairs and found Albus Dumbledore speaking with a teary eyed Mrs. Granger and a grave looking Mr. Granger. Hermione felt her own mood darken and rushed forward to hug her parents.

"Oh, Mi," said Mr. Granger. "You look so grown up."

Mrs. Granger nodded and smiled through her tears. "You look beautiful, darling." she whispered. "Now, good luck, and don't be afraid."

Hermione nodded bravely and turned towards the headmaster. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore." she said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, Miss Granger," he replied. "Everything is set. Clara," he said, turning towards the blonde woman. "I trust you will make it back safely?"

"I will be fine, thank you, Albus," she replied. Then she turned towards Hermione and curtsied again. "Milady."

Herman Granger saw Clara out, and she disappeared down the dark street.

"How are we getting to the ball, professor?" asked Hermione. "And where is it being held anyway?"

"Alas, that is information I cannot give you." said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling slightly. "The secrets of the vampires are best kept secret. However, I can tell you how we will be arriving there. I will be doing a joint apparation."

Hermione simply nodded.

"Now, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore again. "There are some things you need to know before we arrive. This is a vampire's ball, which means the only humans there will be you, the servants, and myself. It is most likely that some of the other male vampires will ask you to dance. You are not to accept unless the prince gives you permission. As your escort, I am expected to dance with you at least once. Upon meeting the prince, you are to curtsey. Don't drink anything, and ask me before you eat something. Is that understood?"

Hermione, who had gone into listening mode during her professor's speech, now nodded her head eagerly. "Yes, sir, I understand."

"Well, then, we best be going." said Dumbledore.

Hermione nodded sadly, hugged her parents one last time, and then grabbed hold of the headmaster as he apparated them both away.

* * *

That's it for now. Here are review answers.

**HecateDeMorte - **Well noted! Thanks!

**Elektra107 - **Thanks so much!

**Sweet-single - **Hermione has to marry the vampire or else he will take her magic away.

**lazy person - **Nah, that isn't my style. I like to take things slow, how they would be in real life. Yep, there is something about Harry and the Dark Arts that just fit together.

**Lady Angelique of mystiqu - **Thanks!

**Kryptic Insanity - **Thanks, I will.

**Christhie - **Glad you like it!

**RoganLuvr - **Thanks!

**Makalani Astral - **Hee, thanks!

**Draeconin - **Thanks so much for this review. I didn't even notice some of the things you pointed out. Yeah, I guess Dumbledore didn't really stick to his resolution did he? How could I have forgotten that? Anyway, he is afraid to tell Harry about his affinity towards the Dark Arts because he doesn't want Harry to delve too deeply in to them. Dumbledore sees a lot of Tom Riddle in Harry, and doesn't want Harry to fall to the dark like Tom did. And let's just say that Lucius is 1/4 veela. I didn't note it anywhere, but will change it when I have time.

**devil's lil imp - **Thanks!

**anna may - **I was already planning on making Harry and Hermione closer. Looks like you think the same as I do!

**Danish Pastry 28 - **Glad you like it!

**kavf - **LOL! Yeah, Hermy is pretty lucky.

**angelkitty77 - **Thanks, glad you like!

**whogirl - **Sorry for the wait.

Well, that's all for now. Thanks for all your reviews! So, would you like me to post the next part of Hermione's adventure next, or would you rather see Draco and Harry first?


End file.
